


The Hardest Part

by Eillac



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eillac/pseuds/Eillac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson couldn't wrap his mind around Sherlock being gone. He is terrified of the day that he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hardest Part

The hardest part was sitting in the waiting room of the morgue, not being able to do anything but just sit there. All he could do in the silence was relive the past hour, analyze it from every angle, memorize it. And when Molly came out and held his hand, John couldn't even attempt to hold back his tears.  
The hardest part was crying in public. Great, heaving sobs that yanked themselves out of his chest. The embarrassment of snot pouring out of his nose and of course John doesn't have a fucking tissue, and everyone around him was asking what was wrong, or knew what was wrong and just looked at him with such pity that it made him want to scream and claw off his skin and run until his legs gave out just so people would stop looking at him like that...  
The hardest part was telling Mrs. Hudson. His voice cracked as he tried to explain to her what had happened, and he had to whisper to spit the words out. Because the numbness he had felt the hours before cracked and fell away as he watched the shock and disbelief and horror color her features, and was replaced with crushing despair. She, more than anything else made, John wish that he could somehow get Sherlock back, because how dare that fucking asshole be so selfish.  
The hardest part was picking out his clothes for the funeral. He owned exactly three suits, and they were too outdated, too cheap, too tight in the shoulders, too nice, too casual. John finally went shopping with Mrs. Hudson, and ended up visiting eight shops and screaming at two shopkeepers because he couldn't find a fucking tie that was right. Finally, he didn't even wear a suit of all. Sherlock would have thought the entire ordeal was ridiculous.  
The hardest part was going to the funeral and meeting his family. All these people who were a part of his life that John had never touched, now never could touch. And hearing these strangers talk about Sherlock and tell stories but they didn't deserve him. Didn't deserve this man who was so brilliant and unbelievable and who they treated like a fucking nuisance and a head case. They had no right to him, not when John was the only one who...  
The hardest part was so quickly he could adapt. How he could talk to Mycroft about funeral arrangements and help Mrs. Hudson pack up the flat and it didn't kill him. Because it should. Waking up every morning without Sherlock in the world should be impossible, like walking around with a gaping hole in his chest. But he's still breathing, and it's fucking killing John.  
The hardest part was how he couldn't adapt. How ridiculous things like flipping channels on the telly or hailing a cab could make him break down and sob. How stupid things like his to do list (Remind S about Herson meeting, pick up dry cleaning, call Sarah to rearrange shifts at surgery) suddenly had such emotion behind him- how could he throw away such a precious memento of his friend?  
The hardest part was when John forgot. When he felt like Sherlock was just gone on holiday or working and could burst into his flat any second. He would find himself checking his phone for a text, or pulling up his blog to type up a new entry before he realized. And even then John couldn't wrap his mind around Sherlock being gone. He is terrified of the day that he can.  
The hardest part was when...  
The hardest part...  
Hardest...  
So  
Impossible.  
Jesus no. Oh god, no.


End file.
